


wish you were gay

by inkyslumber



Series: please, we're the b team [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Deaf Clint Barton, Established Relationship, M/M, Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, dedicated to bi walking disaster clint barton, hawkhawks, i forgot about that one... oops, i hate tagging marvel fandoms bc there's so many sub-fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyslumber/pseuds/inkyslumber
Summary: This time, Ashitaka ignored him to address what was now a small group of reporters. Clint pouted, and hauled himself upright again. He leaned into Ashitaka for support.“Is Hawkeye gay?” One reporter ventured, amidst tamer questions about the robot and the damage.“OfcourseI’m gay! This is my husband!” Clint all but shouted, arms wrapped around Ashitaka’s shoulders.





	1. does clint barton is gay?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secondhxnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhxnd/gifts), [Dadzawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dadzawa/gifts).



> i just want to take a moment to thank romeo and lyn for supporting my au, and patiently waiting roughly two months for it to come to any kind of fruition!!! y'all own my heart and soul!!!!! hawkhawks, while not the intended focus, is now the root of the au and i have you two to thank TTwTT

One week.

Clint Barton, the Amazing Hawkeye, marksman extraordinaire, had kept his best work up on the ceiling for one week. It had become something of a game in the tower to see who would take the trophy each day. With Natasha sufficiently distracted with their guests - or rather, one guest in particular - Clint had held the record. Seven whole days of glory, of his teammates trying (and failing!) to knock his work down. His #2 pencil had survived longer than Natasha’s bobby pin the month before.

When Clint walked into the common lab space to work on his arrows, he expected to see his pencil still reigned supreme. What he didn’t expect was to see a red feather in its place. He froze in place, chair rolled out and body bent awkwardly. There was only one person that could have done this. One person, that had been unfairly informed of what was going on.

“Oh, fuck you!” Clint snapped.

His tone was level despite his upset. He threw himself into his office chair and grabbed the edge of his table to keep close to it. From across the room, the answer was immediate.

“Fuck me yourself, coward!”

He looked up from the pencil on his desk so quickly that he felt a muscle in his neck pull. Ashitaka stared back at him in equal shock. His husband clearly hadn’t meant to say that, then. They looked at each other in silence until Tony walked in and dropped a tablet on Clint’s table.

“Close your mouth, Barton.”

Ashitaka looked away at last, and Clint closed his mouth quickly. With a quick pointed (and quite betrayed, if he did say so himself) glare at Tony, he turned his attention to the tablet. Tweaked schematics glowed up at him in forgiveness. He schooled his expression and scrolled through the options, careful to hide any reactions from the eccentric man beside him.

“Eh, potential,” he said at last.

Clint set the tablet back on the table and looked up at Tony.

“You’re still a meddling asshole,” he continued, voice lower, “so like father, like son.”

Every muscle in Tony’s face twitched at once. He must have known that one was coming. Peter was bad enough to deal with, nevermind his friends from school, and now Tony had gotten in on it. Still, he didn’t look offended.

“The wedding photos turned out lovely,” Tony offered. “Pepper is hiring him for ours.”

Clint snorted.

“As you should! Imagine not hiring your own talented son for your wedding!”

A soft swear drew their attention over to Ashitaka, and Clint’s neutral facade nearly cracked when he saw what his husband had struggled with. JARVIS’s soft-spoken instructions didn’t carry well into his hearing aids, but he could guess well enough what the suggestions were. Tony’s technology was advanced, even for their guests, and the worst of it happened to be the very interactive holograms that Ashitaka had surrounded himself with.

“Ashi!”

He caved when Ashitaka’s wings began to fluff out, and made a point of ignoring Tony’s smug expression at the endearment. Asshole. His husband looked over at him in surprise, though he looked no less frustrated than he had been when his voice had initially carried over to the pair. Clint nodded slightly, picked up his pencil, and threw it with the precision he was known for.

The feather fell.

“You-!” The winged hero spluttered.

“Okay, I’m out of here, birdbrains.” Tony announced loudly, tablet in hand. “Remember, we’re an OSHA compliant workplace-”

“Tony-” Clint warned.

“-and Peter’s bringing his friends over today. So no weird mating dances, either.”

“I’m not an actual bird, Stark.” Ashitaka protested with an offended flare of his wings.

“Just don’t do anything in here that I wouldn’t do!”

With those final words, Tony disappeared into the elevator.

“Like he’d do anything, anyway,” Ashitaka muttered under his breath.

Clint couldn’t hear him, but he could sure as hell read his lips. He sat straighter in his chair, and readied a nearby pen for launch. If Ashitaka was going to get in on the tower’s games, he’d have to hold multiple locations. There was too much on the line now.

“I’m not sure if that was a demand or a challenge, sweetheart.” Clint told him, rather than call out what he’d caught.

The archer threw the pen with a grimace. As it left his hand, he knew it would lodge itself in the panel at too much of an angle to qualify. Couldn’t he have stood closer to Clint? He’d chosen a station too far for him to manage an impressive throw and successful takeover of the panel over his head. At the very least, Clint had managed to get Ashitaka’s undivided attention. He stood to leave, heart pounding in his chest, and willed a more confident look to remain on his face.

With a wink, he decided to go for the kill. There was no way he would be able to focus on his schematics now. He’d just have to burn time in the gym until he could think clearly again. If he had to suffer, so did his husband.

“But I’m a performer, not an exhibitionist. No one out performs me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * my official headcanon is that hawks's name is "takaki ashitaka", bc i couldn't handle him NOT having a name, so i just went full hawk for him.
> 
> ** in regards to the title, i found "wish you were gay" by claud and i'm in love!! please give it a listen!!!


	2. does hawkeye is gay?

“Suit up, Barton!”

Tony’s voice rang over the intercom in the gym. The momentary distraction cost Clint his steady defense against Natasha, and she gave him an unrepentant look before she struck him down. He felt the air rush out of his lungs when his back made contact with the mat, and groaned accordingly.

“Nat,” he wheezed out.

“Rules are rules, Clint,” she said with an offered hand.

He took her hand and may have let himself hang a little heavier when she helped him up. It was the rules, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t complain. Clint hoped that whatever Tony had called him for didn’t involve close contact with people. It usually didn’t - Tony rarely called him for anything related to the press - so he had little to worry about. Still, he sniffed himself discreetly when he secured his tactical vest. Nothing too bad; he and Natasha hadn’t gotten too far into it yet. And Tony couldn’t smell him through his suit, so the eccentric man couldn’t complain.

Clint met Tony in the hangar, prompted by JARVIS when he hesitated in the elevator. The first thing he noticed was that none of the other Avengers were present, nor were any of the A Team. The second thing he noticed was his husband, leaned against the quinjet with a smug look.

“What, Sam couldn’t make it?” Clint asked.

Ashitaka looked offended, and Tony responded in as casual of a tone as Clint had given him.

“Second-rate, I know. Someone has to run interference for civilians.”

Ah. A local call, then. They could expect Peter to swing by if he heard what was going on. It would be easier on both of them if they could dial back their “dadittude” and leave babysitter duty to Ashitaka. JARVIS would let them know if the protégé hero entered the scene, and then they could put him on civilian duty with Ashitaka. Two birds with one stone. Clint couldn’t imagine what would have happened to Peter if Tony hadn’t come across him, a fledgling hero without any guidance or support in his endeavors.

“I am _not_ a second-rate hero-” Ashitaka argued.

“Anything you say, _number three_ hero.”

Tony broke eye contact with Clint and further antagonized Ashitaka, having secured Clint’s support in why he’d brought his husband along. The pair bickered, and Clint tuned them out while he swapped out his hearing aids. Tony had improved SHIELD’s design that combined his aids with his tactical earpiece. A match set that took environmental noise into consideration, and didn’t leave him unbalanced.

“Mission brief?” He asked when he had reoriented himself.

“Ah, yes!” Tony looked away from Ashitaka and clapped his hands. “Well gays, we’ve got a robot on our hands. JARVIS locked the signal and tracked its source, and Cap took Rhodey to take out the geek behind it. Our job is to do damage control and send it to the scrapyard. Questions?”

“Gays?” Ashitaka asked immediately.

Clint sighed and rolled his shoulders back.

“No? Clench up, Legolas!” Tony said cheerfully, Ashitaka ignored completely.

“Keep up, Hawks,” Clint told him as Tony lifted him under his arms. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

His husband fluffed his feathers out, clearly agitated. Maybe it was a little rude for both of them to pick on him, but he was just so easy to rile up. Clint was still upset about the pencil, too. Tony’s facepiece slid into place, and Ashitaka took off ahead of the pair. Show off. Not to be outdone, Tony took off with a muffled mention of “shortcuts”. Clint trusted him not to drop him, but focused on the skyline ahead of him all the same. He’d just make himself sick if he looked at the ground.

The trip was shorter than Clint expected it to be, even with Tony’s questionable navigation. He was deposited on a balcony with reassurance that the building was under renovation and empty of civilians. Clint thanked Tony, and unfolded his recurve bow with a flick of his wrist.

“Hawkeye, aim for the joints. Hawks, keep civilians clear - do not, under any circumstances, let them near “for the vine” - and if you see Spider-Man, he’s got the same instructions.”

Clint lined up his first shot when the blocky robot in the intersection raised one of its questionable arms.

“Mobility?” He asked, arrow lodged in what was arguably its armpit.

“None. If it gets up, Cap and Rhodey lost to the dungeon master.”

“The _what_.” Ashitaka interrupted.

“JARVIS is trying to declaw it right now,” Tony continued, unbothered, “but he’s got outside help keeping his system slightly faster. _Slightly_.”

“Ouch.”

Clint sympathized with another well-placed arrow near the first. Bright, cherry red bloomed across another joint, and then another. He adjusted his stance, left foot further open, and relaxed his right arm again. Deep breaths. Tony clearly wasn’t too worried about this one, since he had time to mess around with paintballs of all things. Clint loosed an arrow into an unmarked joint, and ignored Tony’s jeer about his eyesight.

Maybe he’d just hit the ones that Tony hadn’t marked. And the angles. Could this thing turn?

“Barton,” Tony sighed, “just hit the targets!”

“What targets?” Clint responded without hesitation. “I don’t see any targets.”

Ashitaka’s laughter bloomed over the radio, and echoed from the sidewalk beneath his vantage point. In retaliation, Tony sent targeted missiles into the points that he hadn’t marked. He also further painted more weak points from JARVIS’s data on the machine. Clint allowed himself a small smile and acquiesced. It was easy to relax like this with such a simple mission objective, the robot below too overwhelmed with three major targets for its program to focus enough for an actual attack. In fact, the most that Clint had seen it do was flail its limbs and loosen the top of a fire hydrant in the process. No wonder Tony had needed someone on civilian evacuation duty. The initial shock of its appearance had worn off, and people were no longer frightened of the threat.

Each release of his bowstring satisfied an itch that Clint did his best to otherwise keep boxed up. A target perfectly hit, shown by the shower of sparks that erupted at the point of impact. The occasional red feather just milliseconds ahead of his arrows. Tony’s intermittent presence to keep the robot from a successful attack on anyone in the area. With the robot immobile, Clint knew there had to be a failsafe. Distract. Evacuate. Neutralize. The sooner that they succeeded, the better. Clint wondered how Steve and Rhodey fared, two certifiable geniuses in their own right against someone who had both the brains and the funds to create the hunk of metal before him.

He lodged an arrow in its neck.

Tony had initially drawn its attention opposite of where Clint was, which allowed Ashitaka to evacuate civilians down a safe path covered by his steady aim. Most of the civilians were construction workers charged with the reconstruction of Manhattan, ravaged by the Chitauri in the Battle of New York. There were safer builds behind him, with sturdy basements built with attacks and battles in mind, and less stable structures where Tony played chicken with the robot. Minimal damage to more important builds, he’d said, and higher chance of damage to builds that had barely any work on them. His foundation would pay damage fees either way, but he wasn’t about to spit in the working class’s face.

Clint respected that about Tony, he thought, an experimental shock arrow in what he assumed had been a video feed in the back of its head.

The robot turned towards him.

“Aw, futz,” Clint hissed. He flipped a lever, and his quiver rotated and clicked a different arrowhead into place.

“Cl- Hawkeye?” Ashitaka asked, voice hitched from concern.

“Good job, genius!” Tony said as he tried to get its attention back. “You pissed it off!”

He seemed to have won the award here, as far as the robot was concerned. In the back of his mind, he reminded himself that the only programs who felt things were Tony’s, and that this one just acted from either its protocols or human interference. Not that it mattered - the metal plates that made up its awkward, clunky body had shifted ominously. From where he stood, Clint could make out what were most definitely missiles. He flipped the lever again.

“Stay with the civilians, Hawks,” Tony warned. “Katniss, you need evac?”

Clint readied his arrow and hoped that Ashitaka listened to Tony.

“You might want to evac,” he said, “this one’s gonna pack a punch. All clear?”

“You-” He spluttered. “You had that the whole time? Clear, Barton.”

Tony shot back after his confirmation, and Clint caught a peace sign thrown his way in his peripheral. He snorted. This wasn’t the best place for him to be when this thing hit. His earpiece was toast, and his hearing aids wouldn’t hold up against the blast. At least he didn’t have much to lose with his hearing. (In truth, he wasn’t sure this arrow could make it worse at all.) He allowed himself a steady breath and watched the robot’s movements as it honed in on him.

The arrow hit Tony’s yellow paint marker. Several small missiles shot off at the same time that the blast went off. Time slowed.

“Okay...” He breathed. “This looks bad.”

Clint launched himself over the rail of the balcony, and his controlled fall was interrupted by an explosion behind him. Chunks of concrete smacked into his ribs, and he aimed for the awning beneath him. He hit it with enough force to launch off of it - he wanted to roll, damn it! - and landed inside of a nearby dumpster.

* * *

Clint had blacked out, apparently.

His ears rang with a vengeance when he came to. He was being passed from the cold arms of Tony’s Iron-Man suit into warmer, jacketed ones. Everything was bright, but he knew those flared red wings anywhere.

“Babe!” He crowed, delighted. “You caught me!”

Tin laughter crackled through his damaged ear piece, a stark contrast to the horrified look on Ashitaka’s face.

“I, I didn’t-” He stuttered. “You _fell_ into a dumpster! What were you-”

Clint brought his gloved hand up to hold Ashitaka’s cheek. His husband started to dodge, but not even a head injury could disorient Clint enough to miss. He _never_ missed.

“Shh,” he soothed loudly. “I knew you’d catch me! Can’t. Can’t fire off a sonic and just, grapple, too!”

If anything, Ashitaka’s feathers ruffled even more. Shit. He was mad. Clint shifted his hand to Ashitaka’s shoulder.

Think, Barton.

Clint wiggled in Ashitaka’s arms to sit up straighter. He needed his face closer to Ashitaka’s, but he wasn’t even looking at him. In fact, he couldn’t read his lips because he spoke on an angle. No, wait, Clint was on the angle. He followed Ashitaka’s line of sight, where a reporter animatedly asked about what had just happened. Or at least, that was the gist he caught. The way she spoke left room for error when he read her lips. She looked at him, and he muddled through her question. Ashitaka must have tried to respond for him, because he felt how his chest rumbled against his arm.

“We are the _best_ team. S’Why we’re married.”

He was nearly dropped for that, and Clint glared up at Ashitaka through his tinted glasses. Ashitaka glared back through his visor. The reporter had probably responded, and when Ashitaka rebuked his statement, Clint missed both.

“Hawks,” he persisted, careful to at least keep Ashitaka’s name to himself, “we’re the _best_.”

“I know, you’re loud and still bleeding. Stop talking, Hawkeye.”

Ashitaka finally looked down to address him, head angled carefully so that Clint could read his lips. He grinned, and internally celebrated when he earned a smile in return. Score.

“No hospitals,” he bargained.

“Stark’s call. Sorry, Hawkeye.”

“Honey,” he tried again, “I’m fine.”

This time, Ashitaka ignored him to address what was now a small group of reporters. Clint pouted, and hauled himself upright again. He leaned into Ashitaka for support.

“Is Hawkeye gay?” One reporter ventured, amidst tamer questions about the robot and the damage.

“Of _course_ I’m gay! This is my husband!” Clint all but shouted, arms wrapped around Ashitaka’s shoulders.

He didn’t miss how red the man in his hold turned. However, he did almost miss what Ashitaka choked out after his declaration. The reporters’ insistence at a continued post-battle interview clued him in. Ashitaka apparently didn’t have the tolerance. He adjusted his hold on Clint and speed-walked his way over to the newly arrived ambulance, where he (quite literally) dropped Clint into the paramedics’ care. Clint had deserved that, he supposed.

Ashitaka joined him in the back of the ambulance anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (peter parker voice) i don't like your dadittude


	3. the truth come out!

⬆️ Posted by u/Apollo  
⬇️ Why does Hawkeye is gay? : AskReddit

    My friends keep asking? Why does Hawkeye is gay?? A truth come out?? 🤔

    Did anyone else notice the blood? He seemed a little too out of it to really mean what he was saying. Either that or it was another publicity stunt. Wasn’t he dating Black Widow?

    ⬆️ secondhxnd 20 points  
⬇️ he’s been far as decided to use even go want to do look more like. it’s just common sense. 😔

    if you saw the blood, you saw the look on hawks’s face. no straight man makes that face. if they’re not married, i’ll build the next robot on the block.

    edit: 😩 jk!! mr. stark it’s a joke!!!

    ⬆️ Dadzawa 9 points  
⬇️ THAT’S GAY CULTURE, BABEY!! 🌈🎉🍾

* * *

Clint had so many regrets once he had recovered. As soon as Natasha had confirmed that Helen had cleared him, Kate had ambushed him with her tablet and shown him the storm he had created on the internet. Dramatic edits of his and Ashitaka’s interactions online had been given romantic soundtracks. Entire threads were dedicated to the breakdown of every one of their interactions that had been caught on camera. And some, like the one he looked at now, would have made his head spin if he hadn’t worked so hard to keep up with his kids.

He sort of regretted it right now. Well, no. He majorly regretted it right now.

“That one’s my favorite,” Kate told him.

“I,” he sighed, “can see why.”

“So you’re going to make a Big Announcement, right?”

He grimaced.

“Oh c’mon, Hawkeye. What’s the worst that could happen?” She bumped her shoulder against his.

“Ashi never comes back from Japan?” He told her and reciprocated the bump.

“Oh. Futz.”

Clint sighed. As long as he didn’t fuck it up, they’d make it out of this alright. He just had to listen to Pepper’s coaching. If he listened to Tony’s, he’d end up with more of a mess.

* * *

“Thank you so much for joining us this morning, Hawkeye!”

Clint sucked down the black coffee in his travel mug and flashed the interviewer a one-handed thumbs-up. It was hard to tell who was responsible for this one, but he banked on Phil for the morning talk show. Phil, who stood offstage with a look that screamed, “Go on, try me. You know what you did.” Boy, did Clint know.

“Not a problem,” he began. “Thank you for having me.”

He should’ve said her name - he’d met her before they’d sat on the set, after all - but for the life of him he couldn’t remember it. In his peripheral, he noticed a twitch in Phil’s face that showed how disappointed he was in him. Clint resisted the urge to wipe his sweaty palms on the front of his pants, and instead offered the woman across from him a smile. She preened, and he had a pretty good feeling why Phil had booked this one. Petty man.

“So, let’s get right to it, then! You’ve been a hot topic these past few weeks. Is it true that you’re married to Hawks?”

Clint tried not to laugh and fiddled with the wedding band on his right hand.

“No.”

A few people in the live audience cheered and whistled. Several others booed, disappointed by the news. He was pretty sure that he heard Kate among them.

“I see! So your head injury was responsible for that claim?”

“Yes. Hit that dumpster pretty hard. S’Good thing Hawks was there to keep an eye on me.”

The woman - Christie, he recalled - looked like she’d just been given a promotion. Or even just a more comfortable outfit to wear. Clint gave her another smile.

“So, the big rumor - are you gay? There’s been a lot of discussion surrounding your claim. Some even say you’re pandering to a new audience, if you know what I mean.”

“Not gay, no,” Clint said. He did his best not to laugh. “My husband is, though.”

A wolf whistle rang through the studio. That was _definitely_ Kate. He drank more of his coffee with a straight face.

“Your-” Christie stuttered, “your husband?”

“Yeah.” Clint flashed his wedding band. “Couldn’t get him up here, though. Work.”

“Work,” she repeated lamely.

Clint nodded. Christie looked at someone behind him - her producer, he guessed - and straightened the smile on her face. He rose an eyebrow and made eye contact with Phil.

“Well isn’t this exciting news! We’ll be back after this break!”

Nailed it.

* * *

Christie prattled off her post-commercial introduction when she sat back down after the break. She had shuffled over to her producer with panic in her eyes, and Clint had gone to stand with Phil and get a refill on his black coffee. Whatever resolution they had reached, Clint felt prepared to deal with it. He checked his phone quickly for any texts or calls, and held back the frown that threatened to take over his features. It wasn’t like Ashitaka watched New York City’s morning talk shows anyway.

“So, Hawkeye! Before the break, you told us you weren’t gay.”

“That’s right,” he agreed.

“Yet here you are, with a wedding band from your husband?”

Clint grinned.

“Actually, I bought the rings. Or, well, Tony did, as a wedding gift. Told him to take it out of my paycheck, but he wouldn’t hear it.”

He watched how the gears turned in Christie’s mind, and took pity on the solution she and her viewers were about to reach.

“My husband, uh, didn’t know that, though.” Clint said with a wince. “Hope he’s not mad when he sees this.”

“So he’s watching, then?” Christie asked. She jumped eagerly on the tidbit.

“Maybe? It’s pretty late where he’s at right now,” he admitted.

Her producer must have said something, because Christie straightened in her seat and leaned towards him just enough to show her interest in the topic.

“How would your husband feel to see you on television, telling the world you aren’t gay? Are you afraid he’ll see this?”

Clint tried not to flinch. He mostly succeeded, though his right hand twitched more violently than he would’ve liked.

“Well, I’m bisexual,” he said reluctantly, “so I’d hope he’d be proud.”

“Undecided, but you married the man anyway.” Christie sounded impressed, if not a little thoughtful.

“I’m not sure that word means what you think it does, Christie.”

“It’s alright to be unsure, or not be ready to come out.”

“Does saying “I’m bisexual” not count as coming out?” Clint asked. “I’ve answered the question.”

Christie looked ready to argue, posture tense and eyes narrowed. A movement behind her caught his eye, though, and he saw Phil cut his hand across his neck. In seconds, Christie wrapped her interview with him. She thanked him through tight white teeth, and he shook her hand with a little more force than necessary.

* * *

_Thwap._

Clint looked at the target like it had taken the last slice of pizza from the box.

_Thwap._

He still hadn’t heard from Ashitaka.

_Thwap._

Natasha had been right, and he didn’t want to tell her that.

_Thwap._

If he’d just told Ashitaka from the start, he wouldn’t have heard from a morning talk show that his husband wasn’t straight.

_Thwap._

“What’d that ever do to you?”

Clint whirled towards the voice, arrow nocked. Ashitaka stared back at him unblinkingly. He eased the arrow off of the string with a slow exhale.

“I’m rusty,” he offered in lieu of a real answer.

“I’ll say. Aren’t you supposed to tell your husband you’re bi before you marry him?”

Clint spluttered and turned on his heel. He sank the arrow into the target. Maybe, if he ignored him, Ashitaka would leave him to his panic.

“You must have hit your head harder than we thought.” Ashitaka said, closer than before. “Your aim is off.”

“I never miss,” he shot back immediately.

Ashitaka hummed, and tugged the recurve bow from his hand. He looked up at Clint, who was struck by the difference in their heights for the first time since their wedding. His husband stood a whole head shorter than him. How had he held Clint so steadily in his arms? Clint jolted from the thought from a tug on his collar.

“Cocky bastard.”

There was no heat behind Clint’s words, and he stooped down to Ashitaka’s level to kiss him proper. The way he should have at their mess of a wedding. His hand on his back, one cupped his cheek. Bent over just enough that Ashitaka still had to get on his toes to kiss him. Seven inches was quite the distance, and Clint couldn’t close the gap all on his own.

This was his husband; not Hawks, an amazing pro-hero, but Ashitaka, a man that had dodged every flirtatious comment he had thrown his way.

Clint wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies that the "reddit" portion wasn't more stylized, but i'm tired and html requires thinking  
> cameos are all members of my very tiny hawkhawks server masquerading as reddit users!! ilu all!!
> 
> sad discovery: can't rainbow flag. so pretend the rainbow emoji was a rainbow flag TTwTT
> 
> \- - -
> 
> we have a server for the overall crossover, and for hawkhawks!! come visit us!  
> [here we are!](https://discord.gg/CqtcXQM)


End file.
